


Relief

by blue_jack



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: BDSM, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-13
Updated: 2010-09-13
Packaged: 2017-11-16 00:39:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/533563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_jack/pseuds/blue_jack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You’re going to be a good boy and hold it in for me, aren’t you?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Relief

**Author's Note:**

> So…I have actually always kind of wanted to write a fic that had watersports. IDEK. This plot bunny came up yesterday and wouldn’t leave me alone…
> 
> Beta'd by the awesome caitri.

Leonard stumbled into the bathroom, fumbled at the light switch only to realize it was already turned on and shuffled over to the shower in order to let the water warm up while he took care of business. He rubbed his bare chest, yawning and then stretching, savoring the sweet pang that ran down his muscles. He blinked several times, trying to un-gum his eyes before taking the last few steps to the toilet, lifted the lid and got into position, lowering his boxers and letting them fall to the ground. He started to aim when another hand came out of nowhere and closed over the head of his dick.

“What the fuck? Jim!” Leonard jerked backwards, bumped into Jim’s chest and had to put his hand against the wall in order to keep his balance.

“Bones.” He could hear the amusement in Jim’s voice, and it made him snarl. It was too damn early in the morning for this shit. He pushed off the wall, flinched when Jim’s hand tightened-- not enough to hurt but definitely enough to let him know Jim didn’t want him going anywhere. “You are so out of it in the morning. You didn’t even notice I was in here.”

“Not all of us can be fucking bundles of sunshine at all hours of the day. I’ve got class in an hour, so if you don’t mind . . .” He twisted his head around so he could glare. And so he could take his eyes off the sight of his and Jim’s hand on his cock, which was stupidly starting to get interested in the proceedings, even though Leonard hadn’t had his morning piss yet, so it was doomed for disappointment.

“Actually, you have class in two hours. I set your alarm early.”

“You _what_?” He gaped into blue eyes that twinkled with what most people would mistake for good cheer, even though Leonard knew it was actually pure and unholy evil. “And why the hell would you do a fucking fool thing like that, you—”

“Leonard.”

He froze, blinked, twitched when Jim pulled Leonard’s hand away from his dick and started stroking him.

“I have class,” he said weakly, eyes sliding to the side, his cheeks getting hot as his cock jumped to half mast, and he shivered as Jim kept stroking.

“Not for two hours,” Jim reminded him huskily, pressed his front against Leonard’s back, and Jim was naked and more than ready. “You want me to play with you, don’t you, Leonard?”

He looked down at Jim’s pale hand on the flushed skin of his penis, heart speeding up until the vibrations made his chest ache. Jim never used his name, always called him “Bones,” had since the very first day on the shuttle. The only time he referred to him as “Leonard” was when they were scening, something they rarely did, and even then, only at the club, never in their dorm room.

“Jim . . .”

“What are your safe words, Leonard?” He closed his eyes, had to lock his knees for a second to keep them steady. He still didn’t know how Jim had figured out that hearing his name on his lips would have such an impact on him, but he couldn’t deny the flutter in his stomach each time he did.

If he went along with whatever it was Jim was planning, it would change things. It would change everything. They’d always kept that part of their lives separate. And sure, Leonard might have wished sometimes that they would go to the club more frequently, but he’d never said that out loud, would never have admitted how much he got out of those rare occasions. He hadn’t thought Jim was interested enough to want more, and Leonard hadn’t been willing to strain their relationship by asking for something Jim was disinclined to give.

But now Jim was offering.

“Mitochondria to stop what we’re doing; Hippocrates to stop everything.” He swallowed, took a deep breath, nearly choked on the word, but managed to get it out. “Master.”

Jim sighed happily, long and low, and that was its own reward. “Very good, Leonard. Both hands on the wall.”

He obeyed, wasn’t surprised that his hands were trembling as he placed them against the tile. “Master.” It was easier the second time, not so jarring to say, even when the word didn’t belong in their white bathroom, where their toothbrushes rested on the counter and their towels hung asymmetrically on the rack. His breath hitched as Jim’s hand became more insistent. “I need to—I haven’t—”

“I know, Leonard. I don’t want you to yet. You’re going to be a good boy and hold it in for me, aren’t you?”

He moaned, nodded his head because he couldn’t speak; the pressure in his bladder became almost unbearable at that moment. The club had required the both of them to fill out contracts about what they were willing to do within a scene, and Leonard had checked the box that allowed watersports, but Jim had never indicated a desire to do anything about it. Jim had been . . . so straightforward in his expectations from Leonard, that he’d assumed it would never go further than the light bondage and spanking they’d done so far. He felt almost lightheaded to realize how wrong he’d been, to understand how prepared Jim was to cater to Leonard’s desires.

His cock throbbed, filled with blood so quickly it almost hurt, and Jim laughed softly, nuzzled the hair on the back of his neck before releasing him. Leonard would have objected if he hadn’t heard the distinctive click of the lube being opened.

“M-master?” It was still rough to get that past his lips, with none of the trappings of the club to hide behind, and Leonard’s natural dislike of the word getting in the way. Jim had told him early on that he could refer to him as “sir” or something else that would make him more comfortable. But that had just made Leonard dig in his heels, made him more determined to use “master” instead as a conscious act of submission, even when his pride would have had him rebel.

“I bet you really want to go right now.”

He heard the tube being closed, and he shuddered, spread his legs wider, bladder twinging at both the movement and the reminder.

“Yes,” he gasped, although the inclination had actually died down somewhat, overcome by other sensations, and he arched his back as Jim’s finger pushed into him, deeper and deeper.

And then Jim pressed gently against his bladder.

“Ah! Stop!” He jerked away, felt his erection wilt as his body responded to the need to urinate, and he tensed his muscles in panic, but Jim just laughed, made his grip tighter to compensate and followed Leonard’s hips forward.

“Now you’re beginning to understand.”

“Wait. Please.” He shifted his weight from foot to foot. “I won’t be able to—”

“I want you to hold it in. Can you do that for me, Leonard?”

He flinched, his breath fast and shallow, was pathetically grateful that Jim’s finger wasn’t moving inside him. “I—I don’t know. I don’t—I don’t want to disappoint you,” he whispered, head swimming with the admission. He felt flushed and humiliated, and it just got worse as Jim skillfully got him hard once more, the drive for sex competing with the demands of his bladder.

“I know you don’t.” The tone was soothing, and he felt the prick of Jim’s stubble against his skin as Jim kissed him softly. “And you won’t. You can’t, Leonard. No matter what you do, I will never be disappointed in you.”

Leonard shuddered, body tensing as Jim gently inserted another finger, head buzzing from the conflicting urges. He felt . . . strangely emotional, wanted to believe Jim but was too worried about not being able to accomplish what Jim was asking of him, wanted to please him but felt almost angry that Jim was putting him in a situation where he was doomed to fail. Because he had to piss _right now_. He didn’t know if it was because Jim had called so much attention to it, or if it was simply the result of being more awake and aware of his body’s needs, but he felt incredibly full, felt like he was going to burst, could feel the tingling in his penis and his groin, wanted to close his legs and hold himself, but he’d been told not to, had been ordered to keep his hands on the wall, and he wanted to obey, wanted to do anything and everything he was supposed to, but how could he when it was building and building, and the fingers inside him were just making things worse, making him tremble and try to catch his breath with each stroke, and then—

He cried out, shook as his prostate was manipulated, which felt extremely odd and almost sharp, the pleasure blazing across the mounting pressure, abating it just for a second, and then the urge was back, even more powerful as his bladder was compressed, and he wasn't going to be able to stop, was going to piss himself, make a mess all over the toilet and floor, and he could feel the shame threatening to overpower him, something shattering inside of him—

“Leonard?”

His eyes snapped open and he looked back, realized he was shaking all over, his breath too fast, and he lowered his head quickly, didn’t want Master to see him—

“Come on, Leonard.”

“Master?” he whispered and still couldn’t look up.

“Let’s continue this in the shower, alright? Come on, turn around. Give me your hands. Walk with me.”

“But—” He turned, put his hands in Master’s, but he hesitated to take that first step, eyes darting to where he’d been standing. “I don’t want to dis—”

“I told you. You can’t disappoint me, Leonard. And this will be better, right? Look at me.”

He forced himself to comply, looked into smiling blue and felt his shoulders relax slightly at the pleasure and encouragement he found there.

“Come on. This way, even if you have an accident, it won’t matter. I’m so proud of you for making it this far, Leonard.”

“Thank you, Master.” He swallowed, felt his heart swell at the praise, kept looking at Master as he was led into the shower, the water warm and comforting.

“Hands on the wall.”

“Yes, Master.” He sighed, let the heat relax him even further, felt calmer even with the need that was becoming impossible to ignore. He put his hands on the wall and couldn’t stop the moan when Master’s hands stroked his cock and cupped his balls.

“Are you ready for me?” He shivered, nodded his head, shuddered helplessly when Master penetrated him, the slow burn traveling up his spine until Master was all the way inside. He had to lean forward, rest his head against the wall as he struggled to stay upright, his body clamoring for too many things all at once, confusing him and making him hypersensitive to every little motion and every needle prick of water.

“Leonard.” The sound of his name said so tenderly then when he was so lost made his heart pound, brought him low as nothing else had. “You have my permission to let go anytime you want, whatever you want. Do you understand?”

He nodded his head quickly, gasped as Master started to move, felt like he was coming apart at the seams as need and desire churned together and grew into something vast and inexorable. “Y-yes, Master. Thank you—”

He choked as Master glided over his prostate, slow and sure, elicited that strange, stabbing pleasure again, the need to urinate flaring to excruciating levels from the pressure against his bladder.

“Master?” Even with the permission, his voice was panicked, too much sensation, too many opposing impulses, Master’s hand on his cock making his voice crack and his body lurch as he tried to make sense of what he was experiencing.

“Leonard,” Master gasped hoarsely against his ear, his thrusts still measured and careful although his fingers dug into his hips. He tried to focus on that slight pain, on the water that beat all around them, tried to collect his fragmented thoughts, but he was mired in the filthy pleasure, felt it drag him down, each stroke against his prostate and bladder a crashing wave that threatened to drown him. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

He whimpered, trembled from the praise, from the battle that raged within him, lust surging and ebbing as bodily need fought for dominance.

And then Master’s hand sped up, squeezed and pulled the pleasure up from his gut, unyielding and merciless, methodically destroyed him with each gentle and grating thrust across his prostate. He shook, called out, felt the pressure rise and rise and rise—

“Now, Leonard.”

It was a demand that his hapless body couldn’t refuse, and he came with a piercing cry, his orgasm rushing out of him, each jerk and shudder of his body making him undone, the pleasure almost too much to endure as the pressure finally found its release, relief making him euphoric as it went on and on, every shred of resistance and tension pouring from his body until he was completely drained.

He drifted for a long time then, his vision filled with light, the only sound a soft and calming static.

“Bones?”

He blinked, realized it wasn’t the first time Jim had called his name.

“Yes, Jim,” he sighed, buried his head in Jim’s chest, became conscious of the fact that they were on the shower floor and didn’t even care, the water falling onto his legs but Jim shielding his face.

“Are you okay?” There was an edge of caution in his voice that made Leonard chuckle softly, and he wrapped his arms around Jim where he could, grateful when Jim pulled him closer.

“I am . . . very okay,” he said, unable to describe the stillness in his head or the languor that kept him from moving.

“Yeah?” And he had to smile, because he could hear the hint of cockiness creeping in.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

He savored the moment of silence, knew it wouldn’t last long, and sure enough—

“You wanna get ready for—?”

“Can we just stay like this for a minute?” He could feel his face burn slightly at the question, but he wanted—

“Yeah. Of course we can.” Jim shifted them over to the wall so the water could keep them both warm. “Whatever you want, Bones. Whatever you want.”

 


End file.
